


Spilt Milk

by Butterfly



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-31
Updated: 2004-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Kowalski shows up on Fraser's doorstep for a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spilt Milk

**Author's Note:**

> post-Call of the Wild

The Sunday morning that Ray Kowalski appeared on my doorstep had been unremarkable until that very moment.

I'd heard a vehicle parking on the road outside, but seeing Ray's face when I opened the door had been surprising and unsettling. His face was a touch more worn, his mouth downturned, though that could be attributed to the stress of travel. Still, I detected a slight acrid bitterness in the air about him that spoke otherwise. Ray, it seemed, had taken up smoking again. A shame, since he'd told me how difficult it had been for him to quit the first time.

The lines around his eyes were deeper and he didn't smile, nor did he touch me in greeting.

Yet even with his light dimmed, he was beautiful.

"Hey, Fraser. Long time, huh?" His voice was deeper, rougher. Possibly from smoke inhalation, possibly for reasons that I didn't care to examine too deeply.

"Yes." I said. It had, indeed, been so very long since I'd seen him, yet it had also only been two months. Time, too, can be subjective.

"Is Dief around? I wanted to say 'hi'." Ray's words were casual, but his face told an altogether different story. His eyes flickered around nervously, and he hadn't yet met my gaze.

"He's somewhere. I haven't been keeping track." It was just as well that Diefenbaker wasn't here, nor likely to return before Ray left. He had been missing Ray terribly and to see him for a mere visit would be sheer cruelty. And Ray _was_ here for only a short time. He was dressed appropriately, but had no bags with him, nor had he shown any inclination to come inside.

It was, of course, my duty as a host and friend to invite him in, but the mere thought of filling my new home with Ray's scent was far too disturbing to allow. If he did plan on staying, he would grow impatient and push his way inside. My Ray was not one for subtleties. And since he didn't plan on staying for long, it would be pointless to let any part of him encroach further onto my personal space. It was time to show that I could learn my lessons.

"Oh. You'll have to let him know I was here." Ray shifted nervously, kicking at the edge of the railing around the porch, dislodging a clump of snow that landed with unerring aim onto the top of my boot. He didn't seem to notice and my patience for 'small talk' was at an end.

"Ray, do you remember... when we..." I paused, finding myself uncertain of how to word what I wanted to say. What I wanted to ask. "When I brought you up North. Before."

"Franklin." Ray said, twisting his head around and almost looking at me. "Yeah. Not the kind of thing you forget in a hurry."

"You missed Chicago terribly." That hadn't been what I'd meant to say.

Ray shook his head, then seemed to rethink his response. "Yeah. No. It wasn't Chicago, Fraser."

I spoke my next words carefully, aware of the verbal icefield that I was deliberately stepping into, "You were in Canada for five months. Ray Vecchio was affianced to the former ASA Kowalski for six months. He'd known her for eight. Three months after your return to Chicago, Ray Vecchio ended his engagement with Ms. Kowalski and moved home. He returned to his job at the 2-7 and became your partner." I looked over at Ray sharply. His face was partially turned away, but I could see that his eyes were closed and the edge of his mouth had pulled further down. He had, it seemed, deduced where I was headed. "At that point, you ceased communications with me for over a month. Now, you've come up to Canada for an impromptu visit."

"Fraser..." His voice was barely a whisper and I ignored it as readily as I had the shock of seeing his face.

"Now, a suspicious man might think that you've been hiding something. And a cruel man might remind you of words that you yourself said."

Ray shook his head, seeming unwilling to speak. Well, I had enough air for the both of us, and I was not in the mood to be kind.

"Partnership is about sharing, Ray. What haven't you told me?"

"I thought... we both figured that you needed to know." Ray let out a sharp breath, visible even in the light of day.

"Know what, Ray?" And we both knew now that we both knew I knew.

"You're going make this as hard as you can, aren't you?" His words held a touch of bitterness that matched what I felt in my heart.

"I didn't ask you to come here, " I said, low and harsh. Ray stepped back, his face finally, _finally_ turning toward me. His eyes met mine and I almost stopped at the dread in them, yet I found myself unable to halt a flow of words that had been pushing to get out since the moment that he'd appeared on my stoop. "You two didn't decide this together. _You_ stopped talking to me, but Ray Vecchio has told me more than enough."

His entire face paled, then flushed. He shrugged, apparently deciding to play a different game now that I'd beaten him at this one. "Fuck, Fraser, this does not have to be a big deal."

"You know better than that or you would have said something sooner. You wouldn't have stopped calling."

"This doesn't mean what you think," he said, and he wasn't hearing what I didn't know how to say. Foolish of me to expect him to. Just because I found myself incapable of finding useful words, I couldn't expect him to read my mind.

"Don't bother, Ray. I've seen the results of coupling, " And it was wrong, that I was the first to speak directly of their... arrangement. "Of necessity, your beloved must come first in your heart. That's the way of things, Ray."

"He's not... I'm not... It's not about love, Fraser." And that, perhaps, made the entire situation worse in a way that I hadn't been able to imagine.

"Then why tell me?"

"Partners _is_ sharing. You needed to know. You deserved to know. Because... fuck, Fraser, you deserve to know if your former partner likes it up the ass." I flinched and he seemed to take it as disapproval of more than his choice in words. "Because I should have told you that I'm... bisexual. I should have said."

"I wish you had," I said, with the same damnable weakness that I'd always shown in situations such as this.

"Do you?" He was taking it all the wrong way, but I couldn't find the words that could be used to correct him. "I liked you, that was the stupid thing."

"Stupid, Ray?" I couldn't feel my body. It was odd sensation, very reminiscent of hypothermia, yet caused by no more than simple emotion.

"Yeah. And, you know, even if you'd got past being straight, I couldn't have made it up here. You know that. Chicago is... it's all I know, Fraser." I shook my head, trying to project something of what I felt into my gaze. It didn't seem to be enough. It never was... I should know that by now. "It's all I know. I couldn't give up my life for a friend. Not forever."

"Could you have for... more than a friend, Ray?" I glanced away from him, out into the street, noticing the first true stirrings of life. The city was waking up, hours behind us both. Had Ray flown over last night? Stayed in a hotel? Had he been that terrified of this conversation?

"Fraser... just because a guy says he's a fag doesn't mean that he was perving on you. Don't pretend to be something that you aren't. Not for me." Ray's voice was kind, far, far too kind.

"Ray-" But my protest froze at his next words.

"Fuck, it feels stupid, to fly up to Ottowa for a quick talk." Now, I was the one who couldn't look at him. A quick talk. Is that all that we have been reduced to, Ray?

"You could stay. Just for a time. Just for a day." Because if I had longer than just this moment, perhaps I could find words that meant something. Ray, please let me have some time.

"Nah. I... I used up all my vacation time already and I gotta work tomorrow." And that was, as they say, that. Yet I had to try.

"You'll be tired," I told him softly, fixing my gaze onto the line of his jaw.

"Don't, Fraser. Just... it's not a love thing yet, but I like him. He likes me. It works," Ray said. I took in a soft breath and looked up, meeting Ray's eyes. "I just don't want you to hate me for this, Fraser. Didn't ever want that."

"I will never hate you." And that was, perhaps, the most truthful statement that I'd ever made in my entire life. I could blame my upbringing or my weakness for my choice here, but in the end, this _was_ a choice, like any other. A man chooses his own destiny, and I would choose Ray's happiness over mine in any situation. This is, I have found, the only definition of love that can elevate man above need.

"That's.... that's good." He backed away, moving down a step. Preparing to leave.

"I suppose that it is." I spoke without thought, without motive. Without any reason but to end this moment as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Fraser?" Ray's eyes lightened and my heart tightened in response. "Thanks for... everything ."

"You're welcome. You are _always_ welcome. You and Ray are both dear friends. Please don't forget that."

"I won't. You know, I wasn't planning on leaving quite this soon, but suddenly, I don't... it'd be queer, you know?" He quirked a smile at his own turn of phrase. I couldn't find the heart to follow suit.

"I know," I said simply.

"Come down for a visit. Frannie's always happy to see you. And Ray and me... we'd always be happy to see you." He took another step downward, toward his cab.

And then he was gone. With a quick and beautiful smile, he was gone.

I stood still for a time, then went back inside my apartment and was briefly sick, only barely reaching the washroom in time. There is, I have found, a difference between knowing a thing and accepting it.

I dialed the number for the Ottowa detachment and carefully explained to my superior that I was feeling a touch ill and couldn't possibly go into work the next day. Then I opened the window nearest my bed and settled down. A bit of rest would do me good.

Dief would return sometime after noon, though he'd been wandering farther day by day. But he would return soon enough, as he usually came back for lunch. He would return, and he would smell Ray near me, though we hadn't touched.

If I've learned anything in life, it is this -- what can't be helped, shouldn't be mourned.

I curled around my pillow, willing my eyes to stay dry.

I watched the window and waited for my best friend to come home.

  
_the end_   



End file.
